A Farmer's Journey To Immortality

Chapter 614: Reymon’s Missed Calculations

Kaayes looked up at Aksai one last time.

His vision was darkening, but the sight of that calm and face burned itself into his fading consciousness.

Aksai slowly walked toward him. The faint light from the fruit glowed behind him, casting his shadow over Kaayes’s dying form.

When he reached him, Aksai lifted his right hand. From the center of his palm, a spectral tentacle began to form—thin and translucent, like liquid glass mixed with faint green mist. It moved on its own, twisting gently in the air before latching onto Kaayes’s forehead.

Kaayes’s body jolted as his memories began to pour out.

Images flashed—his training days, the orders from Reymon, the secret meetings of the Grand Martial Hall, and their plans to capture Aksai. All of it was being stripped from his mind, taken and recorded.

Aksai’s eyes stayed calm as he absorbed everything.

Within seconds, Kaayes’s breathing slowed. His body sagged forward and fell limply to the ground. The spectral tentacle dissolved into thin air.

Aksai stood still inside the dim cave, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the motionless body of Kaayes. For a few seconds, he simply watched the corpse, as if deciding what to do next. Then he raised his hand slightly, and with a thought, a ripple of light appeared beside him.

From that ripple, another figure slowly emerged—a headless corpse wrapped in bloodstained robes. It was the gray-haired woman’s body. Her neck stump was scorched at the edges where Aksai’s attack had cut clean through.

Both bodies now lay side by side on the ground.

Aksai stared at them for a moment longer. He didn’t look angry or proud—just calm, almost indifferent. Then he spoke softly, mostly to himself.

“Thanks for the fruits.”

He snapped his fingers. A small flicker of flame appeared above his thumb, glowing orange-red before spreading out into the air like a spark caught in the wind.

In an instant, the fire leapt onto the two corpses. The dry robes and blood caught easily, and soon both bodies were burning with a quiet crackle. The flames didn’t spread beyond them. Instead, they burned in a controlled circle.

The faint smell of burning flesh mixed with the mountain’s cold air. Aksai didn’t flinch. He simply watched until the fire began to fade, leaving behind only blackened ashes and a few glowing embers.

Then his body started dissolving itself into darkness. The shadows around his feet deepened, swallowing him whole. In the next breath, he was gone—vanished without a trace.

***

The next afternoon, in the county branch of the Grand Martial Hall, the atmosphere was calm and quiet.

Sunlight streamed in through tall windows, lighting up the rows of scrolls and manuals neatly arranged on wooden shelves.

Inside the study, Grand Master Reymon Seablaze sat behind a large desk covered with open scrolls, ink bottles, and brushes.

His hand moved gracefully as he wrote on a parchment, carefully copying symbols and patterns from an old, half-faded scroll that lay unrolled in front of him. Every few seconds, he would pause, read the lines again, and make small notes in the margins.

Suddenly, a loud, hurried knocking broke the silence.

Reymon frowned and put his brush down, glancing at the door with irritation. “Come in,” he said in a deep voice.

The door opened, and one of his servants rushed inside, panting slightly. The man’s face looked strained, and his tone carried unease.

“My lord,” the servant said quickly, bowing, “Elder Jin wants to meet you.”

Reymon’s frown eased a little. He leaned back in his chair and looked toward the window. “Hmm. That’s fine. He was supposed to report after the siege anyway.”

He turned his gaze back to the servant and asked casually, “How many of them got back?”

The question was calm, but it carried a weight. Reymon had already made his own estimates before sending out the strike force. He knew Aksai was no ordinary opponent. The man had both martial arts and Spirit cultivation base—a dangerous combination. Losses were inevitable.

Reymon had expected at least half of the Bronze Artists and around ten Argent Artists to die. Maybe, if Aksai resisted with everything he had, even one or two Aurous Artists might get injured as well. Such casualties were acceptable to him; war always demanded a price.

The servant, however, seemed hesitant. His lips trembled before he spoke again.

“My lord,” he began slowly, “so far…”

He hesitated, swallowing hard.

“So far, Elder Jin is the only one who has come back.”

Reymon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The servant continued quickly, his voice uneven. “And… and he is not saying anything to the others. He insists on meeting you directly. He seems… shaken.”

A moment of silence filled the room. The only sound was the faint rustle of the curtains as the afternoon breeze entered through the window.

Reymon’s expression tightened just a little, but he didn’t show much concern. He leaned back in his chair again, letting out a quiet breath.

“I see,” he said finally. “Send him in.”

The servant bowed quickly. “At once, my lord,” he said, and hurried out of the room.

Reymon turned his gaze back to the old scroll on his desk, but this time, his thoughts were elsewhere. He tapped his fingers lightly on the wooden surface, his eyes distant.

’Only Jin came back?’ he thought. ’Strange. Did something unexpected happen?’

His fingers stopped tapping, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“It can’t be that bad, right? As long as they manage to bring that man in, I can accept anything.”

Soon, Elder Jin stepped inside. His clothes were torn and caked with dirt and dried blood. His once-neat hair was matted, and his eyes looked hollow, like someone who had seen something far worse than death.

Without saying a single word, he dropped to his knees with a loud thud.

Reymon froze for a moment, his hand still resting on the arm of his chair. He watched as Jin bent forward until his forehead touched the floor, his shoulders shaking.

Source: .com, updated by novlove.com